from a higher up than heaven
by Niki Chidon
Summary: Sequel to my male Shepard/Kaidan story "and a harder down than stone". The morning after, and the day that followed.


For a moment the feel of a real bed under him confused him. But he woke up like a soldier - immediately alert - and the memories flooded his mind. Shepard. He opened his eyes and sat up.

Shepard was fully dressed, sitting on the edge of his desk, looking at him.

"Lieutenant," he said, and the warmth and humour in the hint of a smile playing on his face found their echo in Kaidan's own face and tone. "Commander."

Shepard's smile widened to something almost visible and he pushed himself off the table. But just as he'd opened his mouth to say something they were interrupted by Joker's voice. Again.

"Damn. Get dressed and meet me at the bridge," Shepard said, already moving towards the door, his voice that of a commanding officer once more.

"Aye, aye, sir," Kaidan muttered good-humouredly and bent to pick his clothes from the floor.

He had just time to see the last appreciative glance Shepard threw at him from the doorway.

- - -

Ilos. Liara blabbing something about the great history, Shepard going out of his way to shoot every single geth they could rouse up, the incredible revelations by the VI the Protheans had left behind... none of that really penetrated on Kaidan's mind.

It still felt all unreal. The galaxy, all organic life, was under a threat and he was part of the very small group that could save them all? Too big. So he only concentrated on the next step. The next target. The next corner. The next burst of his biotic powers.

And then they were racing through the conduit and crashing on the Citadel; the burning remains that bore little resemblance to the glittering city they had visited so often during their mission.

More geth. Saren. Decisions that affected the future of the galaxy. Desperation, fighting to the edge of his abilities and then some - he found himself using strength he hadn't known he owned against the husk that had been Saren.

He just had time to wonder how much of it was because of Shepard. He'd discovered the limit of his powers once before through love - through fear and anger over someone he cared about.

Now, here, seeing his rough commander take a blow after blow, how could it not affect his performance? He - they - had to win. Shepard had to win. He was the hero, the saviour of the galaxy. All Kaidan needed to do was to keep him alive so that he could fulfil his part. With one more blow, one more shot, one more burst of healing energy.

- - -

They won.

The council survived, Saren was defeated, the Sovereign itself lay in ruins.

But under those ruins lay Commander Shepard as well, and the victory didn't feel like winning, for any of them. Kaidan met Liara's eyes, and for once they were in perfect accord. They had both loved him. And now they had both lost him.

Captain Anderson was there with some other Alliance members. He crouched down next to Kaidan. "It's over. You're safe now, " he said in a soothing voice, then, inevitably: "Where's the Commander?"

Kaidan couldn't form words, could only raise his face to look at the ruins, and when the captain followed his gaze he knew he had been answered. Wordlessly, they started helping Kaidan and Liara and the others to limp out of the hall that had turned into a tomb, a mausoleum.

Kaidan didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay where he had sat and turn into a statue, never to move, to feel... some instinct made him look back, maybe just sentimentality, a wish to see the field of battle once more, to say his quiet goodbyes to his love.

Then he saw it. Movement, a flash of white and grey camo, the shocking brightness of his short hair, like a beacon amid the dust and grime. He didn't understand what he was looking at first.

He stopped, and the others turned to look as well. Someone cursed, the Asari was muttering something that might have been a prayer but Kaidan could only stare as the tall, proud visage of his commander walked towards him over the rubble.

His left arm was held closed to his body, he was limping a little. But his face was clear, and the smile was something none of them had ever seen. It was wide, and it was happy, with no trace of wickedness or irreverence.

And it was aimed at Kaidan.

He couldn't move, just wait until the figure caught up to them. To him. Shepard was ignoring the others, the whoops of joy and relief - the jubilant message delivered to the Normandy, 'they are alive, *all* of them are alive!', his light blue gaze fixed on one face.

He came to a halt some inches from Kaidan.

"My _name_ is Seth," he said, as if no time had passed since the morning (was it only this morning? Felt like eternity.), and Kaidan threw his head back and laughed.

Of course he knew that but it was one thing to read a name in a file and to be invited to use it, to even think of him in those terms.

"Aye, aye, sir," he answered to the implied command.

- - -

"Figures," he said, much later, holding a glass of celebratory beverage and smiling at Shepard, once again lying on his bed in the captain's cabin.

The smile was yet to leave Shepard's face and even now he only raised one eyebrow lazily.

"Well, wasn't Seth the evil Egyptian god of the desert?"

"You saying I'm evil? Or dry?"

"Never dry. Evil... definitely," he replied, thinking of the faces on the council when the first human Spectre had - again - walked out on them on his own terms. After giving his support to Captain Anderson's council seat he had reminded the politicians that the task was not over, that he was going to go and _do_ something about the Reaper threat.

After his crew had gotten some much needed R&R, naturally.

One way to call this, sure.

Shepard's smile turned wicked now, definitely wicked.

"Yeah, Set of the Egyptians was so evil he was gay."

"I... don't recall that version."

"In the older versions of the myth it was all about Set and Horus. They were brothers, earlier, then an uncle and a nephew, but one thing that remained was that Set wanted to defeat Horus. In some versions... by possessing him," he whispered next to Kaidan's tanned skin, and he pulled him closer, suddenly not so enthusiastic about the lesson in mythology.

"Of course," the man went on, pausing just seconds from his skin, "that was a horrible disgrace to Horus."

Way to kill the mood, there, skipper. But he only grinned up at the older man.

"You said there are many versions of the story. Maybe you just read the wrong one."

- - - - - the end - - -


End file.
